My friends and I are in an on-again/off-again writing club where the rules are simple. Every two weeks you have to submit three short stories that it took you 20 minutes or less to write. These are the results.

From Flattering to Frightening

The first thing that I want everyone to understand is this – when your girlfriend tells you she wants a molded duplicate of your erect penis for her own personal pleasure when she can’t have the real thing, it’s the most flattering thing you could hear. I am not one to be self-absorbed by my body, and had you asked me before it happened, I’m sure I would have told you how utterly retarded the very notion of doing something like that is.

But it isn’t. It made me feel somehow more manly. And as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I was all for it, and we immediately set about getting a kit that would allow us to accomplish just such a thing.

In case you’re wondering, making the mold is pretty fun, but not sexy because it requires some work. You mix this powder and liquid that is your molding material in a tube, and you have to stick your boner in there at just the right time before the mold sets. So I’m standing next to a table, mixing this stuff together while I’m getting a blow job, then when the time comes I push my dick into this tub with a material that feels like cold pudding. The cold makes you shrivel, which is exactly the point because it allows your wiener to escape the soon cement-like clutches of the mold. After the mold completely hardens, you pour in liquid latex that will turn rubbery and soft – and feel remarkably similar to and erect dick. It’s all quite amazing.

Anyway, the operation was a success, and it left us with a rubber replica of my dick. My girlfriend, who lived far away, didn’t want to take it on the plane with her, though, so it was left in my care. I lived alone at the time with little risk of visitors, so I decided to put it on a shelf like one would place an award. It seemed fitting, because again, I was really proud to know that someone valued my cock so much, they wanted it immortalized.

However, seeing my dick everyday soon started to become a problem. Sure, I know my penis better than anyone on the planet, and I’ve certainly handled it more than all others, but having this replica around gave me a new fascination with it because it was like having an outsider’s perspective.

I knew what it was like to hold my dick, but now I had the opportunity to find out what it was like for other people to hold my dick. So I did. I knew what it was like when I stroked my dick, but now I could find out what it was like for other people to do that. So I did.

This continual ‘I wonder what it would be like to…’ pattern kept escalating throughout the week, until I knew I had to do something because if this secondary penis was to stay in my house any longer, it would end up in my ass. It was a line I wasn’t willing to cross, so I grabbed it, kissed it goodbye, and shipped it off to my girlfriend.

We broke up a couple months after that, and I’m a little haunted by the fact that I have no idea where my penis statue is now. Does she still have it? Does she still use it? Did she treat it like a voodoo doll, sticking pins in it and hoping I’d feel a sharp pain in my penis? Or worst of all – did she just throw it out, and it was found by a bum who decided to put it in his ass?